


Not With a Bang but a Sneeze

by bluerosele



Series: Terran Physiology and Other Crap Studies [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Confused Guardians, Cuddling, Fluff, Gen, Groot is the only one who knows anything ever, Guardians Aggressively Comfort, Guardians Guard by Snuggling, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Peter Let Three Psychopaths and a Tree into his Home This Was Bound to Happen, Sick Fic, Worried Guardians, no one researches terranes they're too boring, nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 05:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4126705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerosele/pseuds/bluerosele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter gets a cold and breaks the universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not With a Bang but a Sneeze

It wasn't easy to hear much over the special security system Rocket had set up in the Milano (which really this is Peter's baby c'mon his baby isn't allowed to do things he doesn't know how to stop), but he could hear Drax scrambling through the hallways screaming, "It's exploding, it's exploding, the captain is exploding." 

"Buddy, don't listen to Rocket people don't sporadically explode. No matter how much you want them to. And don't call me Captain this isn't Star Trek-- _hey_ \-- _!_ " Peter is reduced to a coughing fit after being thrown over Drax's shoulder, what little air he's been able to breath through his congested state knocked out in bursts of disgusting hacks. Plus, being upside down really wasn't helping his sinus headache. "Ugh, jeez, this is gonna be a bitch." 

"Peter, you must talk to me," Drax said calmly, as he ran down the corridor, Peter swinging side to side. "What bitch has befallen you." 

"No offense, Draxy, but you kinda are right now." Drax is kind and doesn't throw him into the wall, but Peter can tell from the grunt he gives its only on technicality. Drax doesn't throw people into walls when he thinks they're dying. "Listen this is no big deal I just have a cold. Y'know like--"

"Quill is dying from an internal hypothermia," Drax announces to the ship's control pad/Guardians Meeting Place, much too loud and much too close to Peter and too much Drax is just attacking Peter right now. Taking mercy on him, Drax flops Peter over onto the center table. Which isn't too much of an improvement but it's not yelling and is relatively right side up. 

Green and red tinged hair sweep into his view, and despite Peter's inability to focus on really anything right now he still has enough lucidity to realize there only so many green red tinged hair people on his ship. He thinks. 

"I don't recall us coming across any species capable of inflicting such attacks," Gamora places her hand on Peter's cheek, which is nice before she hisses and takes it away too soon. "Besides he's much too hot to be cold. This is a contradicting case." 

"It's Peter who knows what kinda shit he gets into on our surface landings, and I do mean _gets into._ " Rocket literally laughs at Peter's pain, crawling onto his chest.

"I am Groot!"

"Nah, it's not that he'd be dead by now," Rocket supplies for Groot's helpful chime.

Peter shakes his head, despite what the throbbing inside advises against, to throw his team, which he loves very dearly but needs to go away right now, off. "Guys, it's just, it's just a cold. Could we not cause a plague scare and let me sleep?" The world reverts and resets to Peter's childhood with Yondu and the ravagers, trying to explain why he was leaking and convincing everyone no he shouldn't be utilized as a small space tool right now because he's dying. These "excuses" would be followed by a "WE COULD'VE EATEN YOU" speech which had Peter decide there was no way telling people who didn't get colds what a cold was. But, these were his team members, his friends. They're smart and fast and strong and have to know 

"He brought a plague the little shit!"

"You mustn't sleep Peter, sleep is the symptom of death,"  

" _We will search every galaxy for a cure to your ailment, have no fear Quill we will heal you._ "

For fucks sake, does no one else in the universe get colds anymore? Is Peter the last to develop an immune defense to the omnipresent pathogens? 

Peter's considering rolling off the table and letting the impact of his head against metal lull him off to sleep when a strong branch wraps itself in leafy comfort around his wrist. "I am Groot," Groot says in the quiet voice Peter needs so much. Everyone falls silent at the unanimous volume changing.

"What do'ya mean you can fix him?" Rocket scurries across Peter's chest and Groot's extended arm. "You don't even know what this is." 

"I am Groot,"

"Since when do you know medicinal properties of anything growing off your skin--"

"I am Groot." 

"Don't pull that, of course I believe you but Jeez look at his face. He looks awful, he looks dead." 

"Cool, thanks," Peter waves the last of his strength into his arm, haphazardly to Rocket. "'m not d'yng just--a cold, like. Like, I dunno, sick juices in my head pouring out through my nose." 

"That doesn't sound like not dying," Gamora pokes his side. 

"He must be delirious, possibly the sick juices are melting his brain." Drax attempts to whisper but can only achieve a small shout. 

Abruptly, the galaxy is spun around, tossing Peter into Groot's arms in a flopped heap of death. "I am Groot," the Flora Colossus says, certain in his decision of obstruct Peter's internal and external disposition. 

"Find blankets? How the--how are blankets supposed to help?" Rocket places himself back on Peter to argue with Groot face to face. 

Groot tightens his hold around Peter, not really as dramatic or overall swaddling as the Groot Cocoon but just as comfortable so Peter drifts off in the giants hold. 

* * *

"Can he even breathe in there?" Rocket kicks the blanket fort they've constructed around Peter's sleeping body. Seriously, what the hell. 

The rest of the _Guardians_ (yeah, okay Peter was possessed by a transcendental power source when choosing that name but really) surround the containment of pillows, fending off whatever outside forces try to attack Peter in this state. Rocket might be on top of said fluff mound but that's beside the point. The guy isn't feeling that great so he's gonna stick by him until he stops melting or whatever. But that doesn't mean he thinks the pillows and blankets and tea made out of some plant Groot grew on himself is going to be any help. 

Groot tilts his face upward from where he's closely watching Peter sleep (creepy) and smiles wide and serene (creepier). Healing always made Groot happy. Rocket fights down the resounding delight at seeing Groot so content. 

"I am Groot," 

"Yeah, yeah, you're in charge. Don't push it." 

Gamora shifts where she lies around the side of the fort and the blankets shake. "Should we wake him for hydration again?" 

"Last time he wouldn't shut up about cookie spiders trying to take over the fourth quadrant. Let's not do that anytime soon," Rocket says.

"The visions he has through this illness seem distressing, is there really nothing more to worry about Groot?" Drax places a hand the size of Rocket on Peter's ankle, who groans. 

"I am Groot," 

"How can cookie spiders possibly be a good sign of anything." 

"I am Groot."

"Oh, alright the fevers breaking. What is that, is Peter actually breaking? As much fun as that seems to watch, we probably don't want that." 

"I am Groooooot." 

"Fine. You're in charge, no need to sing about it, but if Quill dies I'm gonna be very put out." 

They all settle again around Peter and his fortress of fluff, providing for what he needs or asks or complains for, because that's what they do. Name might be stupid but it's true, they're guardians and they guard each other as much as any other idiot who lives in the galaxy. 

 


End file.
